One Night Thing
by SuperWhoLocked91
Summary: Camille and Fisher. One Night Stand. Regret. "Don't forget to torque!"
1. In Which They Have a One Night Thing

**This is my first shot at a Stitchers fic. Jamie and I were discussing possibilities on the show with how things are currently playing out and I told her I could see things going a certain way and then this happened.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Stitchers or any of its affiliates.**

Detective Quincy Fisher opened his door to reveal none other than Camille Engelson. He'd been expecting her for the training he'd recently started giving her since she wanted to learn to defend herself. What he hadn't been expecting, however, was the bag of food he spotted in her hand.

"I brought Thai," she said as she lifted the food and managed her way by him, coming oh so close to rubbing against his tank-top covered torso, and into his living room. The bag with her change of clothes caught on his door and slid off her shoulder. Rather than losing the still steaming food, she let it fall towards the ground but Fisher caught it as he turned to close the door that had done the damage. "Thanks," she said.

"No problem," he replied, sliding it back up her shoulder. The backs of his fingers brushed her skin as he did so, causing goosebumps to form, even with the heat outside. They were in the middle of a heatwave at the moment and it was a reprieve to be in the air-conditioned house after being outside. The walk from her car may not have been long but it felt like forever. She was already covered in sweat and she was partially dreading how much worse it was going to get in the next couple of hours. Hopefully, Fisher would let her use his shower before she left. It may seem pointless since she'd just be going back out into the heat and then home for possibly another shower, but she'd feel better knowing she was, for the most part, clean. They made eye contact, Camille not missing that his hand was still on her bag. She cleared her throat before stepping away.

"Uh, eat first or train?" Fisher asked. He had taken a few steps towards the kitchen, trying to get back in the right mindset.

"With that heat?" she motioned towards the door she'd just walked through. "I could go for a nice, cold beer." She sat the food on his small living room table and sloughed her bag off her shoulder before she collapsed into his recliner.

He chuckled in agreement as he headed to the refrigerator. "Two beers, coming up." He grabbed two bottles from the door and walked back to join Camille in his small living room. His place wasn't huge but it served its purpose. She reached for the ice cold bottle and leaned back into the chair she had commandeered.

The pair of them sat in relative silence, sipping their drinks and avoiding eye contact. Fisher wasn't much one for conversation and Camille was still feeling a little tingly from their earlier encounter only moments ago. When they'd both finished their beers, she was the first to speak.

"Well, Fishy, let's get to it," she said, placing her bottle on his table and standing. He'd stopped objecting to her nickname for him weeks ago since there was no sense in arguing with her. He just smirked and stood. She grabbed the fingerless gloves she'd purchased recently from her bag and strapped them on as Fisher walked to the other side of the bag.

A few minutes later, they had both worked up a quite a sweat with his punching bag. According to Fisher, her right hook had improved but her technique still needed some work. He made plenty of comments throughout their training.

"Keep your hands up!" She'd roll her eyes and punch harder. "Don't forget to torque, Engelson!" She'd only comply and put her weight into it. "Don't forget to watch your breathing!" "Go lower!" "Hands up!" That one earned him a punch to the bag that was rather close to his face. "Watch it, Engelson!" he muttered, hiding a smirk. "Torque!" At this point, he was mostly doing it to rile her up. He knew that the more he did, the harder she worked.

Before they knew it, an hour had passed and they were both drenched in sweat and breathing rather heavily. Fisher had given her a break halfway through to show her a few new moves. Next week, they would be moving on from the bag to actual self-defense moves. He'd already shown her a few basics but they hadn't really practiced them all that much.

"Not bad, Engelson; you're improving," he breathed.

"Improving, my ass," she replied, unstrapping her gloves. She pulled a bottle of water from her bag and chugged half of it before taking another breath. "I could kick _you_ _r_ ass if I wanted to. I just need a shower and some food before doing so." Fisher had gone back to his small kitchen to grab a bottle of water for himself and was in the process of drinking it when he turned to see her ruffling through her duffle. He raised his eyebrows as to ask what she was doing. "Ya mind if I use your shower, Fishy?"

"Sure, go right ahead. Down the hall, first door on the left." He took another drink of his water.

"Thanks. I'll be out in a few." With that, she made her way down his short hall and kept a snide remark to herself about how there were only three doors inside. He was nice enough to let her use his shower, she didn't want to push it. Yeah, she was sarcastic but she wasn't rude. Ten minutes later, she was walking back to the living room with steam rolling out behind her through the door. She was toweling her hair dry when she stepped into the room to see Fisher in nothing but his lounge pants. She stopped in her tracks and almost dropped the towel in her hands.

"Oh, you're out," he said.

"Uh, yeah. Thanks, again." She lifted the towel she was holding. "Where'd'ya want this?"

"You can just toss it on the couch, I gotta clean up later anyway. You still hungry?" he asked as she did just that. She nodded and combed her fingers through her hair as she sat back in the chair she had claimed earlier. "I'll heat this up and grab us a couple of beers."

"Thanks. You, uh, gonna put on some clothes, Fisher?" she pulled her hair over her shoulder as she leaned back in his chair.

"Yeah, about that. I was just as sweaty and gross as you, I just didn't have another shower to jump into," he chuckled. "I just used the sink and cleaned up as best I could before changing. I'll probably jump in the actual shower after you leave."

"Ah, gotcha. Sorry, I just didn't wanna be stuck in those sweaty clothes longer than I had to."

"Understandable." He finished divvying up the food onto two plates and handed her one.

"Thanks." She picked up the chopsticks on the table and handed him a pair.

"Uh, no thanks. I'll stick with my fork. I never really mastered those things."

"You don't know how to use chopsticks?" she mocked, clicking her pair together between her fingers.

"Eh, it never clicked for me. Like I said, I'll stick with my fork."

They ate and made small talk, mostly about her training and the Stitchers program. She'd been learning more about piloting from Cameron and he'd even let her do a few solo in the last couple of weeks. Fisher had opted to sit in the floor and Camille joined him shortly after. With reaching for more food, they'd slowly moved closer to one another.

Camille pulled her hair up into a messy bun as Fisher grabbed for the fortune cookies on the table. He handed her one and cracked the other open for himself.

"Turn your wounds into wisdom," Fisher read. "Ironic." He rubbed his hand over the scars from the night almost two months ago.

"Do one thing every day that scares you," Camille's read. Her thoughts flashed back to the moment a couple of hours ago when she'd first arrived. She glanced over Fisher's bare chest, stopping on his scars from saving Cameron in that restaurant. "Ya know, I don't think I ever thanked you for saving Cameron that night." She dropped her fortune onto her plate and ate the other half of her cookie.

"It was instinct, nothing really," he shrugged. "Part of being a cop."

"I mean it, Fisher," she placed her hand on his forearm. "Thank you. He means a lot to Kirsten and she's kinda grown on me."

Feeling slightly uncomfortable with her gratitude, mostly because he wasn't quite sure how he felt about what had happened, he nodded in acceptance. Sure, he liked Goodkin well enough, he just didn't want him to know that. He didn't disregard her hand on his skin, he just wasn't sure what to make of it. Sure, there was tension there. But there was also an age difference. They'd gotten closer since the shooting and he wasn't afraid to call her a friend.

Camille took a sip of her beer with her free hand, still not moving the one she had placed on his arm. He mimicked her actions, more out of habit than thirst. She took another sip, not breaking eye contact, and removed her hand. He didn't realize how much he liked it until he felt the absence of warmth, even with the heat outside.

She placed the hand she'd just removed onto the floor and leaned slightly. A piece of her hair fell from her bun and into her face. Mostly in reflex, Fisher pushed it back behind her ear. He left his hand suspended beside her for only a moment before placing it on her face and pulling her in for a kiss. It wasn't a sweet kiss but it wasn't rough either. It was a quick one, testing the waters. She pulled him back to her, returning the gesture. This one was more heated and less tentative.

Within seconds, she was on his lap and wrapping her legs around him. Before she knew it, he was kissing down her neck and his hands were on her waist. If he'd been wearing a shirt, she would have removed it by now. In a flash, hers was over her head and their lips were glued together once again. She slid her hands over his arms before moving them to his chiseled chest, running her fingers over his scars. Still a sensitive area, he couldn't help but flinch at her touch. She pulled away from his face with an apologetic look.

"Sorry!" she exclaimed with regret. "I didn't mean..."

"It's fine," he breathed against her skin, pulling her back to him. "Just surprised me is all."

"Seriously, Fisher, we can stop." She was worried now that she had hurt him or gone too far.

"It's fine, Camille." He almost never used her first name, especially when they were alone. She thought it was because he thought it would mean they were too close, that they were actually friends. "I promise." He stopped in his attempts to kiss her and looked her dead in the eye. He meant it. He wanted this, he thought she did. So why wasn't it happening?

"Really?" she whispered. He'd never seen her this vulnerable. She was such a strong woman, a strong person, and to be honest, he was kind of intimidated by her. And a little scary. What was the word she'd used last week? Fierce. That was her in a nutshell.

"Really," he agreed. "Now, can I get back to kissing you or what?" he asked, only half joking. If she wanted to stop, he wasn't going to force her. "I was kinda having a good time."

She wiggled against his lap. "Yeah, I can tell." They both laughed before he went for her lips again. Before either of them had a moment to process it, Fisher had turned them and Camille was on her back on the floor. A few seconds on the cold hardwood was more than enough for her to speak up. "Uh, how about we move this somewhere with a little more cushion?" she asked. When he looked at her, she motioned to the hard surface on which she was currently laying. "Not the most comfortable place for what I have planned."

"What _you_ have planned?" he asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow in the process.

"Yep," was her reply. She kissed him in a way that got her point across.

"Alright, then. Let's take this to the bedroom." With that, he bent on his knees and she wrapped her legs back around his waist as he lifted her from the ground. She was surprised at the strength of a man that had semi-recently been shot. She kissed down his neck as he carried her and wove her hands into his hair. Moving towards his left ear and biting slightly, it took all Fisher had in him not to drop her. Enjoying the reaction that had gotten, she moved to the other side and did the same thing. This time, he let her slide to the floor. She let out a slight squeal when he pressed her up against the wall. He slid his hands down her arms and pinned them above her head, holding them there with one hand. "Now, do you _plan_ on doing that again, Engelson?" He got a nod in reply. "Then there may be a few things _I_ have planned for _you_." He moved his other hand up her side as slowly as humanly possible, making her squirm in the process. "Stay still, Engelson," he urged, "or it'll just get worse."

She looked up from under her lashes. "Promise?" she breathed, taunting him with biting her lip. It took all he had in him not to take her then and there, he held back a noise that he wasn't quite sure what it was.

"Absolutely." He kissed her lips, then made his way to her neck, from one side to the other. He even slipped in a few nibbles under her ears as payback. She pulled her body away from the wall and tried to move her arms to wrap them around his neck but his grip only tightened. He was _not_ letting go until he was ready. "Stay still," he murmured against her skin.

"I don't wanna," she muttered, trying to get a reaction out of him.

He pulled away from her neck and looked her in the eye. "Excuse me?" he whispered, raising that same eyebrow.

"You heard me," she said.

In a flash, he picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder, eliciting a shriek and a giggle from her as he smacked her ass. He walked her the short distance to his room and tossed her on his bed. She'd never been in here before and took a moment to take in Detective Quincy Fisher's lair. It was decently sized for the house he had, with a king-sized bed, a chair in the corner, and a medium-sized dresser against the wall that didn't have a window. Brought back to the situation at hand, she slid herself backwards toward the many pillows that rested at the headboard and he leaned over to crawl after her.

She pressed herself against the pillows and he hovered over her. Sliding her hands to his waist, she pulled him down so she could kiss him again. She moved her hands to his back and wrapped herself around him once again. He pulled himself away to ask a simple question.

"So, what did you have planned?" He reached behind her head to pull her hair loose from its tie.

She pushed him to the side and was soon straddling him. Reaching her hands around her back to unclasp her bra, she replied with a devilish gleam in her eye, "Oh, Fishy, you have _no_ idea."

 **XX**

Camille woke up with an arm draped over her back. She was on her stomach in someone else's bed, she knew that much. Opening her eyes, she was met with the face of a man she works with. A man. Hence the age difference. It hadn't been a big deal last night, not once. But, in the light of day, she could see a few wrinkles she'd never been close enough to notice, not in the daylight, that is.

Daylight. Crap! She'd slept over without meaning to! She tried to slide out from under his arm and succeeded. Thank God he was a heavy sleeper. She looked around the room for her clothes, finding everything except her shirt which she remembered was in the living room somewhere. Going as quietly as she could, she sneaked to the other room and found her shirt and then her phone. 6 missed calls, all from Kirsten. Those new emotions were something they were all learning to live with.

"Going somewhere?" she heard behind her. She stopped putting her things into her duffle and turned around to see Fisher leaning against the door frame in nothing but his boxers. She could see streaks of chocolate still smeared across his chest. Which time had that happened, again? Second? Third? She'd lost count after round four. For a guy who was still supposed to be on restricted duty, he had some stamina.

"Hi! Uh, morning," she stammered. "Yeah, I was just, uh, heading out. I've got a few missed calls from Kirsten, probably since I didn't make it home last night." She was still remembering the things they'd done for a few hours. It was a shock they'd gotten any sleep at all. Him being practically naked didn't help matters any. God, the things they'd done...

"You left this in bed," he walked towards her with her hair tie pinched between his fingers. "Figured you might need it with the heat out there." She took it, careful not to make any skin to skin contact.

"Yeah, thanks." She pulled her hair up, this time making sure she didn't miss any. She didn't want to give him any opening for a repeat of last night. Little did she know that her doing just that brought back memories for him. All kinds of positions and feelings. Not romantic ones, of course. They'd just had a great time.

"No problem. I guess I'll see you at work?" he asked, not moving away from her. He'd gotten rather close in the last thirty seconds and she'd barely noticed until now.

"Yeah, sure thing," she agreed. He was trying his best to resist taking her back to his bed and having a repeat of the best Tuesday night he'd had in a long time. God, he wanted to kiss her again. Wanted to see if it was a one time thing or if it was more. But not romantically, of course. He kept telling himself that. He had been since he'd kissed her last night. Yeah, there was tension and electricity, but that could be attributed to the damn heatwave. He wondered whether he should hug her or high five or shake her hand. He'd never slept with someone he worked with, much less someone he'd be seeing in a matter of hours. His concerns were answered when she stuck out her hand for a handshake. Yeah, it was awkward but probably the safest option. He smiled and took her hand, holding back a laugh. "Thanks for the workout, Fisher." Realizing what she said, her eyes practically fell out of her skull. "I mean, uh, I, uh..." she stammered.

"I know what'ya mean. Thanks for the food," he laughed, still shaking her hand. "It was the best I've had in a while." He couldn't have been talking about the reheated Thai food, could he? Had he lowered his voice when he said that or was it her imagination? And why was he still holding onto her hand?

Without hesitating, she pulled him closer and planted her lips on his. He moved his hands to her waist and pressed her body against his own. She slid her hands around his back and held him there. This went on longer than either of them were willing to admit and probably would have gone to the next level had Camille not come to her senses when she did.

Out of breath, she pulled away and placed her hands on his chest to push him a safe distance from her. "Wait, wait, wait. We can't do this again. I've gotta get home, Kirsten's probably worried sick since she hasn't heard from me." He nodded in agreement. "This can't happen, again, Fisher. I mean it."

He could see how serious she was. Nodding again, he distanced himself even further from him. "Agreed. It was a one time thing. Well, a one night thing," he said, remembering how many times of a thing it actually was. He cleared his throat. "It was fun while it lasted, though." All six hours of it, he thought to himself.

"True," she placated. It _had_ been fun. But it was over now. Never to happen again. "But it _can't_ happen again, got it?" she asked. If Linus found out about this... They weren't together at the moment but she still didn't want to hurt him. She cared about him.

"Got it, never gonna happen." He nodded in agreement. He suddenly realized how naked he was, and how exposed. "I, uh, I guess I'll see you at work."

"Yeah, see you at work." She gathered the rest of her stuff and slipped on her shoes before leaving.

Fisher made sure to wait until she left and closed the door before moving from where he'd been standing. He didn't want to risk another moment of weakness like a few minutes ago. It was all physical between them, nothing romantic. He sighed and finally moved to make breakfast and get ready today. It was going to be a long enough day with how awkward it was going to be at work and on only a few hours of sleep, he didn't want anything else to contribute and an empty stomach might do just that. Actually, forget breakfast. He needed a shower. Not only was the heat terrible, he had chocolate syrup in places he didn't know he could get chocolate syrup. Walking to the bathroom, he turned the water as hot as it would go to get the sticky mess off his skin. He'd definitely have to wash his sheets later today before they were ruined. Soaping up to remove the sticky sweetness, his mind wondered back to last night. It'd been a while since he'd had a night like it. A few minutes later, he found himself switching the water to cold.

 **Okay, so that wasn't _exactly_ how I saw it going down but the story kind of got away from me. But, I did end up loving it! I've never written anything like this before because the characters I usually deal with aren't as passionate at these two. Either way, I hope you enjoyed! Also, this is not the end and chapter two will be up within the week!  
MJ**


	2. In Which The Beans Are Spilled

**Okay, chapter two. Time for some people to find out about Camille and Fisher's special fun time.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Stitchers or any of its affiliates.**

Kirsten heard a key in the lock just as she was sitting down the small breakfast she'd fixed for herself. Moments later, her roommate was walking through the door. Kirsten could tell she was trying to sneak in by the way she slowly closed the door she had just come through and was tip-toeing towards her room.

"Morning," Kirsten said, startling her. Camille jumped and pressed her hand to her chest before she turned to see Kirsten staring at her with a cup of coffee in hand and a raised eyebrow.

"Jesus," she muttered. "You scared the crap outta me." With her bag still on her shoulder, she stepped into the dining room and grabbed a couple of pieces of microwaved bacon off Kirsten's plate.

"You're getting in late, or rather, early. Where were you all night?" She took a sip of her still steaming coffee.

"I, uh, fell asleep on Fisher's couch." When Kirsten's raised brow and pressing glare, she continued. "With the heat and the training, I was exhausted. So, he let me grab a shower and after we ate, he let me pass out. Sorry, I didn't call or anything." She was avoiding eye contact at this point.

"Took a shower at Fisher's? Really?"

"Yeah, I, uh, was drenched in sweat and he said it was alright." She grabbed a piece of toast off the plate and inched her way towards her room. "I'm gonna grab a shower before we go in, that heat is terrible!"

"The heat, sure." She hid her smirk behind her mug as her friend disappeared down the hall. She finished her breakfast and was putting her dishes in the sink when she heard the water shut off in the bathroom. Seconds later, she received a text from Cameron letting her know they'd caught a case. Still in her pajamas, she went to her room and started getting dressed. As she was slipping on her shoes, she heard the front door close and assumed Camille had left ahead of her. She grabbed her bag, keys, and phone and was out the door.

When she got to the lab, she saw everyone else was already at work getting ready for the stitch. She saw Camille coming from the break room and made a bee-line for her.

Catching her in the corner of her eye, Camille stopped in her tracks and turned back towards the room where she'd just come out of.

"Hey!" Kirsten shouted from a few feet away, not realizing she caught the attention of Cameron below them. Realizing she wasn't going to get out of this one, Camille rolled her eyes and stood where she was.

Sighing, she answered, "Yeah?"

"What was with you this morning?" Kirsten asked. She'd made sure to lower her voice this time.

"Like I said, I slept at Fisher's." That wasn't a lie. "I took a shower and passed out after we ate." Again, not a lie.

"I have a feeling you're not telling me everything," Kirsten responded.

"Everything about what?" Cameron asked. Neither of the girls had noticed him come up behind them.

"Nothing," Camille offered.

The look Kirsten gave told Cameron that it wasn't nothing. He made a note to ask her later. Before he could say anything else, Camille turned and went back into the break room. Looking back at Kirsten, Cameron rolled his eyes and started back to his station.

"Gotta get ready for the stitch," he said over his shoulder.

"Give me a minute," was her response. He nodded and continued on his way. She stood there a moment before opening the door to the room where her roommate had disappeared to. "So," she started, "what's _really_ going on?"

Camille stopped in fixing her much needed cup of coffee. After the night she'd had, she needed it. She took a breath, looked at the ceiling, and finished what she was doing before turning around and taking a sip.

"Missed my Starbucks this morning," she murmured over the brim of the mug she'd brought in the day after her cover was blown by Maggie. Taking another sip and managing another eye roll from Kirsten, she never broke eye contact.

"Well?" Kirsten asked, crossing her arms. "I have a stitch to get into any minute now."

Realizing she couldn't stall any longer, Camille walked to the table and sat down her mug, wrapping her hands around it as she took a deep breath. Was she really going to tell her what went down last night?

"I slept with Fisher last night," she got out all at once, letting out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"You slept with Fisher?" she asked tentatively. Camille nodded, watching for a reaction. After a solid two minutes of silence between the two of them, Kirsten blurted, "But he's old."

"He's not that old," Camille pressed. She suddenly found herself trying to figure out the exact age difference between them. "Maybe ten years older?" she added questioningly. Age didn't seem to matter last night. That earned her a pointed look. "Besides, as long as both people are over twenty-five, I don't think an age difference is really that important. Plus, it was just sex. It's not like we're dating or getting married." She stood to leave.

"I guess that's fair," Kirsten conceded, nodding and moving out of the way of the door. They did have work to do. "I wanna know everything."

"I'll tell you later. And it's not gonna happen again, I can promise you that right now," Camille said as they walked back into the lab. Seeing that Fisher had arrived, she stopped in her tracks. They locked eyes and she felt her cheeks get warm.

"Are you blushing?" Kirsten whispered.

"What? No!" she objected. "Do me a favour and don't tell anyone what I told you." Kirsten nodded, confirming she would do just that. Camille pulled her gaze from the man she'd spent so many hours with and continued to the piloting station where Cameron was. She wasn't sure she wanted to take the lead today or not. On the one hand, she could use the distraction. On the other, she wasn't sure she could focus long enough to help. Especially now that he was here.

A little bit of small talk and some avoiding later, the stitch was underway. It went as routinely as usual with Kirsten bouncing after she got what they needed to get started. They got their assignments and, since she wasn't needed, Camille snuck off to class. She managed to bump into Fisher on her way out, literally bump into him. She was trying to find him in the lab and ran right into him. He held her steady so she wouldn't bounce back into the wall.

"Easy there, Engelson," he said. She looked up at him and her breath caught in her throat as memories of the last twelve hours came flooding back. God, she wanted to kiss him right now. "Watch where you're going." He hadn't released his grip on her arms yet and she wasn't holding it against him. She knew she wouldn't last much longer in her restraint if she stayed. Best to get moving.

"Uh, I'll see ya later, Fisher." She pulled herself out of his grasp and stepped into the elevator. He watched the doors close, not breaking eye contact, and didn't move until it had already gone up a few stories.

Across the lab, Kirsten and Cameron had witnessed the awkward exchange between their co-workers. Having seen the two girls in the break room together not too long ago, Cameron turned to Kirsten.

"What the heck was that?" he asked her. Kirsten shrugged and walked away, trying to keep her promise. As expected, he followed after her. Camille would call him a puppy in these situations. "Okay, now you _gotta_ tell me what that was about, Stretch." They took a few more steps together before she stopped and turned to him. He smiled that goofy grin of his, making her smile in return. She couldn't resist. Looking around, she leaned in closer. He mimicked her motions, expecting to get the full story.

"Not here," she whispered.

"Got it, he whispered back. "Wanna have lunch at my place?" he asked. He knew they had some work to do but figured they'd be okay to take a lunch break in a few hours. She nodded in reply.

"We having lunch at Cameron's?" Linus asked. He'd caught the tail-end of their conversation. He looked to both of their faces for an answer. Cameron silently checked with Kirsten. He figured it was something sensitive but maybe he'd be able to get her alone to get the story. He didn't want to hurt his friend so he said yes. "Awesome! Meet around one?" he asked.

"Sure," Cameron answered. After Linus had walked away he turned back to Kirsten. "Uh, we can talk before he gets there. If that's alright with you," he tagged onto the end. He knew better than to tell her what to do.

"That works. We can grab some Chinese on the way back to your apartment. Let's go," she said. They still had some work to do today.

By the time lunch rolled around, Kirsten's stomach was growling and Cameron wouldn't let her forget it.

"Hungry there, Cupcake?" he asked with a smirk.

"I didn't have a big breakfast, alright? I just microwaved some bacon and had some toast."

"Why's that?" He pulled up to his building and parked. Kirsten grabbed the food as they climbed out of his convertible.

"Camille didn't come home last night and I had to fend for myself this morning. I'll tell you about it upstairs. Let's just eat, I'm starving," she emphasized.

He wasn't one to come between Kirsten and her food so he kept his mouth shut. They were upstairs in no time but what felt like forever to the hungry blonde. Cameron toyed with her when it came to finding the key to his door which would have earned him a smack if her hands hadn't been the ones holding the steaming food. Finally inside, she dropped the bag onto his kitchen counter. She took a seat on one of the barstools and started pulling containers.

"Are we not gonna wait for Linus?" he asked, pulling a couple of bottled waters from his fridge.

"I think I can eat an eggroll without hurting his feelings," she snipped.

As if on cue, Cameron's phone buzzed. "Look's like he's gonna be a little late anyway, says he's stuck in traffic."

"Well, I'm not waiting." She took the plates he'd pulled from the cabinet and began divvying up the food. When she saw the look he was giving her, she said, "I'm still gonna share. I'm hungry, not selfish." To which he let out a little laugh.

"Hand me a plate," he said.

They ate in silence for a few minutes before Cameron brought up what had happened at the lab earlier. Kirsten looked up from her food and dropped a piece of sesame chicken on her shirt.

"See, Cameron? The plate doesn't make a difference." She stood and went to the sink to try and get the sauce out, inevitably making it worse. "Damn it!"

"Come with me, I have a shirt you can borrow," Cameron offered. She walked with him to his room and waited for him to grab a t-shirt from the closet. He tossed it to her and turned around so she could change. She paused a moment, raising an eyebrow at the band logo on the front.

"One Direction, Cameron? Really?" she asked as she slipped her stained shirt over her head. Cameron laughed.

"Yeah, Linus gave it as a gag gift for my birthday last year."

"Why do you still have it?" she asked, tossing her shirt onto his bed. He didn't miss the flash of fabric in his peripheral. He swallowed and stood a little taller.

"Uh, I don't really know. I just never got around to tossing it out."

"You sure you don't just use it to get other girls in your room?" she joked, sliding his too big tee over her hair.

"Oh, yeah, all the time. Girls in their twenties _love_ One Direction," he replied sarcastically.

"I do," she answered. "And you can turn around, now." He did.

"Ya look good in my clothes, Kitten." He looked her up and down, remembering the "dream" he'd had when he was dead and her in his boxers. "And did you say you _like_ One Direction? The boy band?" She nodded. "How did I not know this about you?!"

"I don't talk much about my personal life," she answered, tugging at the edge of the shirt. Sensing a needed change in topic, Cameron brought it back to earlier.

"So, what's going on with Camille?" he asked, stepping closer. He saw her bite her lip, a first.

"I told her I wouldn't say anything..." she trailed off.

"But?" he prodded.

"But it's kind of... weird." She made a face as she tried to picture exactly what had gone down.

"Okay..."

"Well, uh," she stepped closer to him. "Camille slept with Fisher." It came out a little quieter than she thought it would.

"Wait. What?"

"Yeah, I know! I mean, I don't know all the details. But, like I said earlier, she didn't come home last night."

"I can't believe it, Camille and Fisher..."

"Camille and FISHER?!" they heard from the hallway.

"Uh-oh," they whispered practically in unison. They pulled open the door and were met with a seething Linus.

"Uhh," Cameron started, looking to Kirsten for help.

"Camille and Fisher?!" he repeated. He started pacing in front of them. He kept repeating those three words, over and over. The two of them didn't know what to do.

"Linus," Kirsten started.

"Camille and Fisher. Figures. All that time she spent with him after he got out of the hospital and their "training" sessions. I wonder how long this has been going on," he said, throwing his hands in the air. They could tell he was offended. And pissed. "How did it happen?" he directed at Kirsten. His eyes bore a hole into her face.

"I, uh, I don't know, exactly. But I know it was a one time thing!" Knowing that wasn't good enough of an answer, she tried, "You should talk to her about it." She checked the clock on Cameron's wall. "She should be getting out of class any minute now."

Without so much as a goodbye, he was out the door in seconds, slamming it behind him. The pair looked at one another for a moment.

"Well, that was awkward," Cameron said, placing his hand on the back of his neck and ruffling his hair.

"Tell me about it," she agreed. "I'm pretty sure he was the last person Camille wanted to find out." She walked back over the their abandoned lunch, sitting back down and picking up her fork. Cameron watched her.

"You still hungry?" he asked half joking. He joined her and took a bite of a now room temperature egg roll.

"Yeah. I mean, I feel sorry for Linus and for Camille having to face his wrath. But that's not gonna make me any less hungry," she said around a bite of her chicken.

"Just try and not drop any this time, will ya?" A pointed look was his only response. "I only have so many boy band t-shirts," he joked.

"Ha ha," she fake laughed, slurping up some noodles.

Cameron wanted to ask questions about Camille and Fisher but Kirsten was adamant that she knew nothing. She _did_ insist that she would be getting answers from Camille later, though. They talked about how awkward it might be at work for a while and how they would try to avoid being caught in the middle. Kirsten knew she was going to catch some slack for breaking Camille's trust but, other than that, she was going to try and stay out of the crossfire. They transitioned the conversation to work and, since the refractory period wouldn't be up until later that evening, there wasn't much they could do until tomorrow.

"I don't really wanna go home and face Camille right now," Kirsten said, rubbing her face.

"You wanna chill out here for a little while? We can pop a movie in or something," Cameron suggested.

"You sure? I feel like I've been intruding on you all day."

"I live alone, I like the company every once in a while." He leaned back on the couch they'd moved to an hour ago. "You can pick the movie if you want."

"Thanks," Kirsten said, setting her drink on the table. They'd switch to alcohol after realizing there was no other work they could do that day.

"No problem, Stretch." Kirsten got up and picked a DVD off the top shelf of his collection, not telling him what it was before popping it in. She grabbed a blanket off the back of the chair in the corner and sat down rather closely to him. Not questioning it, he grabbed the remote off the end table just as she nestled up under his arm. He wrapped it around and and smiled as he pulled her closer. He could get used to this. "Comfy?"he asked.

"Very," she murmured just before she yawned.

"Tired?"

"I didn't get much sleep last night. I never heard from Camille and ended up passing out on the couch a few hours before she got home. Excuse me if I doze off, Jughead." He laughed as she could barely get her insult out without yawning.

"Fine by me. Mind telling me what we're watching?"

"You'll see."

When the menu screen popped up, he got his answer. The Terminator. He pressed play and was twenty minutes in before he realized her breathing had slowed and she'd fallen asleep on his chest. He turned the volume down and scooted down in his position to give her a more comfortable one. Looking at his watch, he saw it was barely six o'clock. He could go a another hour or so before his stomach would be begging for food; may as well finish the movie and let her get some sleep. Just before the credits rolled, he felt her stir against him. "Mornin', sleepy-head," he whispered.

"Mmmm," was all he got.

"Have a nice nap?"

"How long was I out?"

"The whole movie."

"Seriously?" She jumped up from her comfortable position. "What time is it? Has Camille called?"

"It's not too late, and I don't know if she called. Your phone buzzed a few times but I couldn't exactly get to it to answer it."

She got up to check her phone that she had left on the kitchen counter. 11 texts and 3 missed calls. All from Camille. She had to have been pissed. She scrolled through the texts and got confirmation. Linus had confronted her and she was blaming Kirsten.

"Well, I'm not gonna be safe at home for a while," she said as she sat back down on the couch, sleep still in her eyes from her two hour nap.

"You're more than welcome to stay here, we may just need to find you some other clothes before we go back to the lab tomorrow," he joked.

"Are you sure you don't mind? I really don't want to get into an argument with her right now."

"Again, it's no problem," he insisted.

"Can you drive me home in the morning to get a change of clothes?" she asked.

"Sure. Ya know, you can probably get your license and a car of your own now that you don't have a medical reason not to."

"I'll... think about it." Their conversation was interrupted with two growling stomachs. "I could go for some food."

"Me, too. You okay with pizza?" Cameron reached for his phone.

"Sure, just no anchovies or olives. I can't stand those things." She shivered and he suppressed a laugh.

He called in the order and told her it would be about twenty minutes so they grabbed another beer to talk and pass the time. The food arrived and they ate, Cameron laughed as Kirsten tried to suppress more yawns and was unsuccessful. This resulted in a pillow being thrown and lead to a full-blown pillow fight between the two. Thankfully, their bottles were practically empty and at a safe distance so none were broken. The pizza box had fallen to the floor and ended up underneath the coffee table. Within minutes, Cameron had Kirsten pinned on the couch, a pillow her only defense. And it was failing.

"Uncle! Uncle!" she cried, laughing all the while.

"I knew you couldn't take it," he joked, still not moving.

Their eyes met and, before she had time to think about it, Kirsten closed the few inches separating them and kissed him. Just a quick one, maybe three seconds.

"I, uh, I'm sorry," she whispered against his face.

"No, um, you're fine." He had yet to move and was still hovering over her. "What was that for?" he asked, realizing she probably needed to breathe and finally sitting up.

"I'm not sure. It just felt right." She put the pillow she was holding in her lap and touched her hand to her lips.

"I know," he breathed, barely above a whisper. She turned to look at him, wanting to do it again but resisting.

"Listen, Cameron, if this makes things awkward, I can go..." She tossed her thumb in the direction of his door.

"No!" he said a little too quickly. "I mean, no. You can stay. Like I said earlier, it's no problem, Stretch."

Brushing off the lingering silence and her still tingling lips, she stood and made her way to his room.

"Uh, it's kinda late. You mind if I grab something to sleep in? These jeans aren't the most comfortable thing to be in for long periods of time."

"Yeah, use whatever you want from the dresser." His mind was still reeling from the kiss she'd given him only moments ago. She pulled his door to and he heard drawers being opened and then the faint sound of her jeans hitting the floor and he swallowed. This may be a little more difficult than he thought. Seconds later, she was back in front of him in a pair of his boxers and that same band tee she'd been in since lunch. She'd pulled her hair out of the bun she'd had it in all day and it was laying on her shoulders.

"I get the couch, right?" she asked, leaning against the door frame.

"No, I can take the couch," he offered. He _was_ a gentleman, after all.

"I can't kick you out of your own bed, Cameron," she pushed.

"Then," he paused to gauge her reaction, "we can share the bed." She stared at him with a raised brow. "I mean, it wouldn't be the first time." Not only was he referring to the first day they'd met, but he was remembering the dream he'd had about Halloween when he was "dead."

"Yeah, well, I was unconscious last time," she quipped, walking towards him. He stood as she got closer.

"Why don't I go get changed and we can decide after?" She nodded and moved to let him pass.

As he did so, she couldn't resist. She grabbed his arm and pulled him to her, wrapping her hands around her neck. Realizing her intentions, Cameron pushed her back the short distance to the wall of the archway and put his hands on her waist. Barely five seconds had passed since he'd gone to pass by her and now, their lips were together again. They only came up for air and their hands were everywhere. His moved to hold her face and hers went to his waist to pull him closer to her. What seemed like an eternity went by before they moved away from each other. In reality, it'd been maybe two minutes. To them, it was a moment they'd remember for some time. Both of them were breathing heavy and their hearts were beating so loudly that they could be heard in the room.

"So, um," Cameron licked his lips, "that was..."

"Yeah," she agreed, her face flushed. "Is it hot in here?"

"I think it is. Let me go crank the A/C." He stepped away from her and moved to the central unit near the front door. He tried to clear his head before he turned back to face his lovely blonde lady.

"Were you gonna change?" she asked when he finally had the air where he wanted it.

"Yeah, give me a minute and you can come get in bed." He stopped as he realized what he had said. "I didn't mean -"

"I know what you meant," she laughed. "Go. Get changed."

He did as told, grabbing a pair of lounge pants and a plain tee from his pajama drawer. He changed his pants and had just slipped off his shirt when he heard his door being pushed open. Not saying a word, he turned to see Kirsten standing there, just watching him.

"Did you need something?" He started to put on the clean shirt.

"Don't," she objected quietly.

He paused in his movements. He gave her a questioning look, as to ask _why_ _?_ In an answer, she moved from her place in his doorway to get closer to him. She raised her hand up and let it hover over his surgery scar from when he was ten. Since he didn't object, she used her fingertips to trace over the slightly raised skin. She couldn't see that he closed his eyes. He had never let another woman do this. While they were't officially a couple at the moment -or were they?- this was the most intimate thing he'd ever done.

"Why?" he whispered.

"It's a part of you. And a part of how we met. And how you made me normal, again."

He finally opened his eyes and met hers in the dimly lit room. The only light that was on in his bedroom at the moment was the lamp beside his bed.

"Okay," he said with a smile. "You ready for bed?"

"Yeah," she answered, the tender moment fleeting. "I'm exhausted." She moved away from him to walk around to the far side of his bed and pulled back the covers. He lifted the shirt again to try and put it on. "Leave it?" she asked. He tossed it on top of the dresser to answer her request.

"Okay, but if I get cold in the middle of the night, I'm blaming you," he teased, climbing into the other side of his bed.

She realized they'd left their phones in the other room and hers was almost dead. She got up and went to get both the phones and her charger. She plugged them in near the couch and made her way back to Cameron's bed. The last thing they needed was Maggie pissed at them for both their phones being dead. He opened his arms to welcome her and she accepted with a smile. She settled in for a much needed night's rest and fell asleep to a steady heartbeat at her ear.

 **Okay, so I kind of went off on a Camsten tangent there. I do love what ended up here and I hope you guys did, too. The next chapter is (planned to be) Linus and Camille's confrontation and possibly one more chapter after that. It's been a while since I did a multi-chapter story so you'll have to bear with me! I hope you enjoyed and please leave a review!  
MJ**


	3. In Which They All Get Shot At

**Here is the moment you've all been waiting for!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Stitchers or any of its affiliates.**

Camille was just walking through the door of the house when Linus came speeding up. She heard him skid to a stop and turned to see him racing from the car. She knew something was wrong, she just hoped it wasn't what she thought it was. She hadn't yet closed her front door and moved back onto the porch as he practically jumped up the few steps that were there.

"Linus, I can-"

"You and FISHER?!" he blurted. He was panting, both from anger and from his rush.

"I can explain," she started, her hands in the air. "It wasn't what you think."

"Really? And what is it that I think, exactly?" He paused to catch his breath. "That you slept with Fisher? Fisher?! Of all people..." His lack of oxygen had caught up with him.

"It was a one night stand. It meant nothing," she pressed. It _had_ meant nothing. Even though it happened more than once...

"You're telling me this was a one time thing? One and done? Nothing else?" She could tell how furious he was. "Tell me the truth, Camille."

"Well, if you want complete honesty..." she started.

"What do you mean?" he practically bellowed. Right now, she was thankful they weren't in an apartment building where all the neighbours could hear.

"It _was_ a one night stand. Last night was the only time -"

"Last night?"

"Yeah. I mean, I thought you knew that." The look on his face told her differently. Before he could start into her again, she continued. "Like I was saying, it was only last night. But, it did happen more than once." She wasn't sure how he was going to take that.

"How many times?" Even he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer. When she didn't respond, he asked again a little more forcefully. "How many times, Camille?"

"Five," she said. "Or six," she whispered as an after-thought.

"What?!"

"I, uh, I kinda lost count after four," she cringed. She knew it had gone on for hours and things had lasted at least that many rounds.

"I can't believe this, Camille." He felt like he'd had the wind knocked out of him. "How... How could you do this?"

She knew he'd be hurt but now, she was being forced to see just how much.

"I'm sorry, Linus." She paused and almost stepped closer to him. "I didn't mean to hurt you. It just... happened." She shrugged. This time, she did take a step towards him but he moved back.

"I know we never defined anything," he said as he took another step back. "But I thought we mattered more than this, that _I_ mattered more than this." She could see tears in his eyes and couldn't help but wonder if they were from anger or from being hurt.

"Linus, I'm so sorry." Her vision blurred and she restrained from wiping the tears that had formed in her own eyes.

"I don't wanna hear it, Camille. Why don't you go tell Fisher how sorry you are since he's your new boyfriend?" That struck a chord. She stood a little straighter.

"Maybe I will. Now get your ass off my property before I call my new "boyfriend' to arrest you for trespassing." She pulled out her phone for emphasis.

He gave her one last look before turning to walk to his car. There were a few more things he'd wanted to say to her but he had a feeling that if he had, he'd lose her forever. Even as a friend. There were just some things you didn't come back from. Instead, he mumbled a few curse words in Hindi as he shoved the key into the ignition and sped off.

Camille took a few minutes to compose herself, still on the porch in front of the open door. She was fighting tears, for a few reasons, but she refused to shed even one. She may have sniffled a couple of times but she refused to let him break her. She'd leaned against the side of the house after Linus had driven off but she stood now. Without a second thought, she reached in the doorway to grab the purse she'd dropped on the floor and locked the door. She got into her car and drove.

Before she knew it, she was parked on the street in front of the house she definitely didn't need to be anywhere near at this moment in time. She sent Kirsten another text or two before getting out of the car and walking to the front door. She banged on it a few times before it was pulled open.

Fisher stood in front of her, still in his suit from work. It seemed everyone had gone home for lunch. He had a left over egg-roll in his hand and he was still chewing when he realized who was at his door. He swallowed before speaking. He could tell she was mad.

"Camille?" he started. "What're you -" He was cut off when she pulled his face to hers and kissed him. She could taste the soy sauce on his lips. When he got a second to pull away, he tried again. "What're you doing here?"

"Don't talk." She pushed her way inside and started unbuttoning his shirt. She kicked the door shut behind her and kissed him again as she slid his tie from his neck. Wrapping it around her wrist, she said, "We'll use this later."

"Camille," he tried, still not quite sure what was going on.

"I said shut up, Fisher." She stopped in pulling off the tank he had underneath from where it was tucked into his slacks. "You want this or not?"

Hell, yes, he wanted it. He just wasn't sure if or why she did when she'd told him less than twelve hours ago it was never going to happen again. Rather than asking questions and upsetting her, he leaned down and kissed her in response. The pair of them were stripped in a matter of minutes and were making their way back to Fisher's bedroom in only their undies. When the backs of his knees hit the side of his mattress, Fisher fell backwards and Camille fell on top of him. With the heat outside, they were already covered in sweat.

"Now," she said as she unraveled the tie, "why don't we put this to good use?"

 **XX**

It had been three days since Linus had confronted Camille on her porch and, to make matters worse, the heat wave was still in effect. While Cameron and Kirsten had gotten closer, every one else seemed to be avoiding one another at all costs. No one had filled in Maggie on anything so she was pissed that she didn't know why _they_ were all pissed. They'd solved the case they'd caught that morning everything had gone downhill for Camille and Linus and were waiting on the next sample to be delivered to the lab.

Kirsten and Cameron were practically inseparable, although not in the typical "attached at the hip, lovey-dovey" kind of way. They were, just, different. Something had changed that night she'd stayed and she was glad it had.

Camille and Fisher had avoided another awkward morning after by her slipping out after he'd fallen asleep. She'd been pissed and used him to cope. Linus wanted her to be with him? So be it. But, then she'd felt supremely guilty. Her second romp with Fisher had made her realize just how much Linus meant to her and how she felt about him. Too bad he still wasn't talking to her so she could tell him that. He only spoke to her if absolutely necessary and only about work. She knew it was going to take time and a lot of patience to show him how sorry she was. If only he would _talk_ to her, that would do so much.

Fisher was confused as ever. He still had no idea why Camille had shown up at his door three days ago. Yes, he'd enjoyed himself and he knew she had as well. So, he was a little confused as to why she was gone when he'd gotten up to get a drink in the middle of the night. He'd barely spoken with her since then, mostly about work and pleasantries. All he wanted was to know why she'd come to his house. It'd been three days, damn it! Maybe he'd get some answers out of Kirsten...

Cameron and Kirsten were in the break room, with Cameron shoving a churro into his mouth and Kirsten leaning back in her chair with her mug in hand. While they hadn't defined anything, they both knew things had changed since that night she'd stayed. Nothing else had happen, save maybe a quick kiss here or there. And a little hand holding when they were alone. She liked how things were now and was excited to see where they'd end up.

"You and your churros," she joked, taking a sip of her tea.

"What? You sit 'em in front of me, you can expect them to disappear," he said as he finished off the one he had in hand. He washed it down with some coffee before picking up another to start in on.

"You're gonna turn into a churro," Kirsten mumbled, more to herself than him. She'd just remembered something Ed used to say to her when she'd eat too much of one food in particular. Her memories would come to her in a weird fashion. She'd just get bits and pieces every so often.

"What?" Cameron mumbled around a mouthful.

"Nothing," she said.

Before either of them could say anything else, they were joined by Fisher. He walked over to where the coffee was and fixed himself a cup, grabbed a danish off the tray, and sat down at the table.

"Mornin'," Cameron said.

"Mornin'," Fisher replied.

A moment of silence was filled with Cameron and Kirsten having a discussion solely with their eyes. Eventually, Kirsten gave in, rolled her eyes, and turned to the detective.

"So," she started, "Fisher. What's up?"

Taking a minute to decide how to go about the situation, he tore off a piece of danish and popped it into his mouth. "You really wanna know?" he asked. Kirsten was slightly regretting asking but nodded. "I'm guessing you know about the whole... Camille situation." Another nod from Kirsten. "Well, ever since she showed up at my house the other day - "

"Wait, she went back to your house?" Kirsten leaned forward and placed her mug on the table. Cameron stopped chewing.

"Well, yeah. She didn't tell you?" Kirsten shook her head. "I thought you said you knew?"

"She told me about that night but we're not exactly on speaking terms at the moment since she's pissed at me for Linus finding out."

"Ah, that explains it."

"Explains what?" Cameron asked, dropping the churro in hand.

"Why she showed up the next day, mad. And why she..." He didn't exactly want to finish that sentence. They both knew what he meant. Another moment of awkward silence as it settled in what had happened between them. "Anyway, thanks for your help. I'll, uh, see you in a few." He left his coffee and the remainder of his danish on the table as he left them alone.

"Well," Cameron stated.

"Yeah," Kirsten agreed.

Across the lab, Camille was coming out of Maggie's office. She'd been grabbed and grilled for information on the situation. Giving as little information as possible, Camille had told her the basics of what had happened. Maggie'd torn into her and told her it was not to happen again to which Camille had assured it wouldn't. She was a little preoccupied with her thoughts and ran into Fisher as she turned the corner.

"Sorry!" she exclaimed as she pushed herself back and looked up. When she saw who it was, she tried to take off but Fisher grabbed her arm and pulled her into an empty room nearby. "What?" she whisper-yelled. Sure, they were in a room with the door closed but she didn't want people to hear whatever it was they were talking about. With the glass walls, she felt exposed enough. And the walls weren't exactly soundproof.

"We need to talk," Fisher answered.

"About?" She crossed her arms.

"You know what about, Camille." When she didn't say anything, he continued. "Look, I know you were mad at Linus and that's why you came to my house that day. I can accept that. I just want to know if I need to be prepared for anything like it to happen again." She was still silent and averted her eyes. She didn't want to admit that she still thought about it. Even if she did feel guilty for it now, that didn't cancel out the fact that she'd had an amazing time. More than once. Or twice. She lost count. "I'm not saying I had a bad time. I didn't lie, it was the most fun I've had in a while. And, while I'm not saying it was anything other than physical," he stepped closer and placed a hand on her crossed arms. She let them fall to her sides. "I _did_ have a good time, both times you stopped by. But, I won't push you. Just let me know what's happening and give me a head's up next time." She still hadn't said anything at this point but neither of them could see that Linus was standing just outside the door, seeing and hearing everything. Camille finally brought her eyes up to meet Fisher's. "I can't be the only one that feels whatever this is between us." He leaned in to kiss her but just as his lips made contact, Camille pulled away and took a few steps back.

Linus was surprised to see it and to hear what she said next.

"I can't do this, Fisher. I have feelings for Linus." The look on her face told both of them just how strong those feelings were. "That night, that first night, it was good and I know I shouldn't have come back the next day but I was pissed. At him and partially at myself. If I'm being honest, I was using you."

"I kinda figured..."

"I just, I _really_ care for him and I don't want to do anything else to hurt him. He means a lot to me. I know I can't take back what's already happened, but I'm not going to do anything else to damage what's left of our friendship. So, this, whatever it was, is over. Never going to happen again."

"Okay, then," Fisher complied. He straightened his tie and made his way to the door just as Linus slid backwards around the corner to hide from view. "I guess I'll see you later, Engelson." When he turned to go through the door, he smirked. "You're welcome, Linus," he whispered as the door clicked shut behind him.

Camille took a moment to compose herself before she went back to work. She and Linus didn't speak the rest of the work day but she did notice he didn't look at her with that death glare he'd been giving her the last few days. She figured that maybe things were clearing up between them so she asked Kirsten if she wanted to do a group thing later that night, Cameron would be the one to invite Linus as he was the one he was most likely to say yes to and the least likely to yell at.

At one point in the afternoon, Linus and Fisher had been alone together and Fisher had confessed that he'd seen Linus there the whole time. While he'd been honest in most of what he'd been saying, he was trying to help Camille realize that she needed to be with Linus. Anyone with eyes could see it. When Kirsten had told him what had happened, he knew why she'd shown up that afternoon. This way, things could get back to normal a little faster. Linus pointed out that he was still pissed at him, and at Camille, but he thanked him.

Cameron asked Linus about the group hangout just before they were all leaving for the day and, to Cameron's surprise, he agreed. _One step at a time_ , he told himself. Maggie called Fisher into her office as everyone else was leaving.

"I won't go into details but if I hear of you sleeping with anyone else in my lab, there will be Hell to pay. Do I make myself clear?" She gave him a pointed glare to emphasis her intentions.

Holding back an explanation or even telling her it would no longer be a problem, he nodded. "Yes, ma'am. Crystal."

"Good." She sat down at her desk and he took it as his cue to leave. He stepped out of her office just in time to see the elevator door close with the four that had drawn him into the world of stitching inside.

"Guess I'll catch the next one," he said more to himself than anyone else. He was a little startled when Tim came up beside him.

"Mind if I ride up with you?" he asked as he took a bit of the last churro. He'd managed to steal one away when Cameron hadn't been looking.

"Sure."

 **XX**

They pulled into the paintball parking lot half an hour later. The girls had ridden together as had the boys, they arrived at the same time and parked near one another.

"Paintball. Really?" Camille asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, Kirsten and I have been talking about it all day and I figured now was as good a time as any," Cameron said. They made their way to the counter, paid, and picked up their gear. "Okay, for teams... How about me and Kirsten versus Camille and Linus?"

"I'm good with that," Kirsten said as she strapped on what she could of the supplied body armour. Cameron helped her with the rest and Camille used all her self control not to roll her eyes. She also didn't miss the kiss he slipped her before she slid on her helmet.

"I guess that leave us," Camille said as she tried to secure the last strap.

"I guess so." Linus couldn't take watching her anymore and went to help. She gave him a smile of thanks as he handed her her helmet.

"Alright, losers buy dinner," Cameron said. They grabbed the guns that had been loaded for them and walked over to the field where obstacles and hiding places had been set up. "Let's do this!"

"Someone seems a little excited," Kirsten heard Camille mumble.

"Must be the sugar from all the churros," she retorted.

They played for over an hour, going back for another round every time they ran out of paint balls. They were all covered in neon by the time they gave in to growling stomachs. Just before they finished the final round, Camille and Linus were alone and trying to find Cameron and Kirsten. They'd gotten pretty good at hiding. Linus turned to Camille and shot her in the stomach.

"What the hell, Linus?!" she whisper-yelled. "We're on the same team."

"I know," he turned back to the task at hand. "I just felt that it was the least I could do since you slept with Fisher and everything." She couldn't help but admit to herself that he had a point.

"That's... fair," she conceded. She shot him back.

"Hey!" He turned to her with hands raised. "What was that?"

"For shooting me. And for basically calling me a whore. Actually, now that I think about it. You _did_ call me a whore in Hindi. Just be glad it wasn't a real gun." They stared at one another for a solid minute.

"Truce?" Linus suggested. She thought on it for a minute.

"Truce." She reached out to shake his extended hand. Just as she was pulling her hand away, she was hit with a bright blue ball.

"We win!" Cameron shouted from behind a haystack.

"Damn it!" Camille said as Kirsten came out from a huge tire.

"Looks like we're buying dinner," Linus said as he started removing his gear.

"Yeah, I can see that," Camille relented.

"Camsten for the win!" Kirsten said as she and Cameron high-fived.

"Camsten?" Camille and Linus asked in unison.

"Eh, it's a ship name," Cameron explained.

"Oh, God. You gave yourself a ship name?" Camille whined. "How did we lose to these two?" she asked Linus. He just shook his head.

They turned in the guns and safety gear, then made their way to their cars. None of them were surprised when Cameron pulled towels out of his trunk.

"No paint drips in my car," he said as he handed one to Kirsten. She rolled her eyes and took it. Since Linus and Camille had to pick up dinner, she and Cameron would be riding together to her house. She wiped down as best she could before she climbed into the passenger seat of Cameron's car and noticed that things seemed to be a little better between Camille and Linus. She could hear them making small talk as they got into Camille's car.

"Looks like Camus is on the mend," she mentioned. Cameron started the car and started towards the street.

"We're going with Camus? Not Caminus?" he asked.

"I think it fits better," she replied.

"Oh, well. As long as their back on speaking terms, I don't care what we call them."

"What do you think they'll get for food?" Kirsten asked.

"Knowing them, probably pizza." When they got back to Kirsten's, they went inside to get cleaned up. Just as Kirsten came from her room in that One Direction shirt she'd swiped from Cameron's, Camille and Linus came through the door with pizzas in hand. She had the food and he had the beer. "Told ya," Cameron taunted. "Hey, is that my shirt?" He pointed at the tee she was wearing.

"Maybe."

Neither of them could hide the smiles that crept onto their faces. Yes, things had changed. Some for the better. And those that hadn't were getting back to normal.

"Let's just pop in a movie and eat," Linus said as he came from the bathroom with wet hair. He'd attempted to get cleaned up in the sink.

"Agreed," Camille chimed in. "I'm starving."

Cameron looked at the people around him. He had his girl, his best friend, and whatever Camille was to him. "The gang's all back together," he whispered.

"Hmmm?" Kirsten asked around a mouthful of pizza.

"Nothing," he laughed. He could get used to this.

 **That's it! More than likely, this is the last chapter and I won't be continuing this story. I may do something Camsten related in the future. You can check out my other Stitchers fic _You're My Best Friend_ if you'd like to see how I thought that porch scene in the 4/12/16 episode should have gone down. Leave a review and let me know what you think!**

 **MJ**


	4. In Which We Reach a Conclusion

**That finale, though :)**

 **Okay. So, I've gotten a few questions (and complaints) about how the last chapter ended. I can understand if it felt a little rushed (it felt that way when I was writing it) so I decided to do this final chapter to clear up a few things. Some people were surprised that Camille ended up with Linus. I thought it was obvious that was where it was going. Although, I do have to admit that while writing it, I did start to ship Camille and Fisher as more than a one night stand. It made it hard to finish it the way I had originally planned. I'm a little afraid this may ruin things but, maybe it'll actually end up helping...**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Stitchers or any of its affiliates.**

"I can feel you staring at me," Camille said into the dark room.

"Sorry," Linus relented.

"Did you have something you needed to talk about?" she murmured, eyes still closed and half asleep.

"It's nothing. Go back to sleep," he replied.

Reluctantly, she turned over and popped open one eye. She sighed before saying anything.

"What is it, Linus?"

He turned over to face her, their faces inches apart in her bed.

"The whole Fisher thing's still on my mind," he whispered.

"That was weeks ago, Linus," she countered. Both eyes were now open and she was more awake than she had been two minutes ago.

"I know. I just, I can't quite shake it."

"We've talked about this, many times. I thought you were over it by now." She raised an eyebrow in question.

"Yeah, I know. Doesn't change the fact that I can't help thinking about you and him, together..."

"It was just a physical thing, I've told you that. The heat wave made everyone a little crazy, you know that. Look at Kirsten and Cameron, they did a few things during that time that were a little out of character."

"True, but they're still together. That heat wave was just the catalyst that got them there." He got silent and looked away.

"And you're afraid the same thing might happen to me and Fisher?" she asked softly. She was trying to meet his gaze but he wouldn't make eye contact. "Linus, that's not going to happen. Like I've said a million times since then, it was just physical. A reaction to the situation we were in at the moment and the heat was definitely a contributing factor. And, if I'm being honest, it had been a little while since I'd been with anyone so I was a little wound up, if you know what I mean. I can't speak for Fisher, but that's how I made the decision to do what I did." She didn't want to say "that night" because of what had happened the next day.

He knew why she'd gone back to Fisher, and he blamed himself. If he hadn't yelled at her in front of her house that afternoon, she more than likely would never have gone back to Fisher's house and done it again. Yes, he'd called her a few things in Hindi that he shouldn't have, and he regretted them the minute he'd pulled away from her house. He'd forgotten that she'd picked up a few things during their time together and hadn't realized just how hurt she had been when she'd overheard him.

Camille hadn't spared him any harsh words when they'd finally had it out with one another. A couple of days after the four of them had gone to paintball, Camille and Linus had had the fight that had been a long time coming. Things were said, other things were thrown, and a few tears were shed between the two of them. Hours later, they'd come to an understanding. They were going to start over as friends and take things slowly. Just hang out and be around one another and try not to fight. So far, aside from the occasional flare up, they'd done well in keeping with the plan. They'd managed a couple of kisses but had yet to have sex again. They were trying out actually sleeping together first to try a different form of intimacy. Last night had gone well but now, they were awake at two in the morning talking about the whole ordeal. Yet again.

"I know, I know. It doesn't change how I feel, though."

"I don't know how many more times I can say I'm sorry. We've been going around in circles for weeks now." She saw him nod in agreement. "I have an idea..."

"What would that be?" he asked.

"Um, it's more of a suggestion." She waited for a response before continuing and did so when he motioned for her to go on. "Well, how about you talk to Fisher? Get his side of things?"

"Are you serious?"

"What? I mean, I don't know what else I can tell you to help you get past this. I've told you everything. The only thing left to do is hear his thoughts on the whole situation." He took a moment to think it over before agreeing and climbing out of bed. "Where are you going?" she asked.

"To meet with Fisher, like you suggested." He changed out of his lounge pants and into the jeans that were discarded on the floor.

"Linus, it's almost two in the morning. Can't this wait until tomorrow?" Camille propped herself up on one elbow.

Linus grabbed his phone and sent a text asking Fisher to meet him at the closest bar before sliding it into his back pocket. "I can't sleep as it is, Camille. You honestly think this can wait until morning?"

She hadn't expected him to get so hostile. She thought they were past this. "Fine, do what you want. Go back home when you're finished. The front door will be locked." She turned away from him to face the wall.

"Camille," he started, remorsefully. His phone dinged in his pocket. "I didn't mean it that way..." He checked the text Fisher had sent agreeing to meet.

"Just go, Linus," she pressed. She pulled the covers up to her chin and nestled herself into the pillows. She was pissed. She was upset. And she was fighting tears because of it.

"Camille..."

"Go!"

He conceded and left her room, closing the door behind him. He hadn't meant to upset her and he regretted the way he'd responded. He made sure to lock the door behind him as he exited the house. He had a feeling he wasn't going to be welcome here for a few days, if not longer.

In a daze, he seemed to make it to the bar in minutes. He parked down the street and made his way inside. He spotted Fisher almost instantly in the scarcely populated building. He appeared to be nursing a drink that Linus took to be scotch. He approached the bar and took the seat next to the detective.

"Fisher."

"Linus."

Linus ordered himself a scotch on the rocks and coughed as it stuck in his throat. It was a bit stronger than what he was used to drinking. They sat in silence for almost fifteen minutes before Fisher spoke.

"Any particular reason you called me here in the middle of the night?" He was on his second drink since Linus had arrived. Little did Linus know that Fisher had already been on his way to the bar when he'd gotten the text asking to meet. This had to be his third or fourth since he'd gotten here before Linus.

"I wanted to ask you about Camille," he said after swallowing another harsh sip.

"What about her?" Another sip.

"Well, how do you feel about her?"

"How do you mean?" Another sip.

"I mean, that night that everything went down," _poor choice of words,"_ what was your reason for it?"

"My reason?" He was confused.

"Camille told me it was the heat and that she was in, um, a bit of a dry spell." Was he supposed to be telling him this?

"Ah. Probably the same for me."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, I mean, I'd only been with one other woman since my divorce and that was a one night stand that hadn't really gone anywhere. So, when the opportunity presented itself..."

That made sense. If he'd been in a similar situation, he probably would have done the same thing.

"I get it," Linus said.

"Don't get me wrong, Camille is a very beautiful woman, and she knows how to kick some ass," he scoffed. Linus didn't like where this was going. How much had Fisher had to drink? "Feisty," he murmured with a smirk on his face.

"Fisher?"

"Hmmm?" Fisher responded around the brim of his tumbler. He motioned to the bartender for another.

"Do you have... _feelings_ for Camille?" He wasn't sure if he wanted an honest answer or not. The moment of silence that followed just made it worse.

"Maybe," he replied, unsure. He hadn't really thought about it. _I mean, she's gorgeous, smart, she can fight as good as anyone I've ever gone up against, she's sexy, not to mention she can dish it out as much as she can take it._ Her sarcasm was one of the things that had drawn him to her. Everything else had just pulled him in further. Crap. _Did_ he have feelings for her? "Hell, I might."

"Oh." That wasn't what he'd want to hear. Although, he had kind of expected it.

"What?"

"Nothing. I just, I didn't realize until now..."

"Realize what?" He took a drink from the new scotch the bartender had just sat in front of him.

"That you have strong feelings for her. And she does for you." He finished off what was left in his tumbler and winced as it went down.

"Do what?" He turned to face his current drinking buddy.

"That's why she and I can't get back to where we were; she's hung up on you. And you on her." He signaled for another drink. This was taking an unexpected turn. He'd expected a short conversation and maybe one drink. He'd been here almost half an hour and was on his second scotch. And hard liquor wasn't really his thing.

"Back to where you were? I didn't come here for marriage counseling."

"Come on, Fisher. Just admit you like her and get it over with." He downed half his drink. Fisher was staring at him like he'd lost his mind. He was used to Linus being more reserved and a little less confrontational. His find was starting to get a little buzzed from his fourth - or was it his fifth- drink.

"Alright. Fine. I think she's great and I'd like to see where it goes. See if it's just physical or something else. Ya happy?" With that, he downed the rest of his drink and stood to leave. When he swayed, he flagged down the bartender. "Call me a cab, will ya?" A nod in return told him he'd have a safe way home. "See ya at work, Linus." He tapped him on the shoulder and went to wait for his ride outside.

Linus sat alone at the bar. He'd chugged what was left of his drink after he'd gotten a real response out of Fisher. No, he wasn't happy. That wasn't what he'd wanted to hear. But it also _was._ He'd known it and wanted confirmation but, now that he had it, he wished he hadn't even met with Fisher. He sat there for a little while longer before heading out to his car. He determined he was sober enough to drive and put his keys in the ignition. He knew he wasn't welcome back at Camille's so he knew to head back to his place. He sent a text to her that things had been resolved between Fisher and himself. He tossed the phone into the cup holder and headed towards home.

 **XX**

Camille woke up to a handful of texts from Linus.

 _T_ _hings fixed with Fisher._

 _I know the truth now._

 _He likes you._

 _I know you like him, too._

 _Just date him, already._

 _I'm done._

She wasn't sure exactly what had happened last night but she wanted answers.

 _You're done?_ She had barely been awake five minutes and her day was starting with drama. She stretched, got out of bed, and made her way to the bathroom. She needed to pee and coffee. In that order. She passed Cameron in the hallway and couldn't help but poke fun at him.

"Morning, Dr. Goodkin."

"Engelson," he murmured, scruffing up the back of his hair. His hair was going every which way and she wondered what he and Kirsten had spent the night doing.

She managed her business, splashed some water on her face, and then walked to the kitchen to get a cup of much needed caffeine. She could smell it brewing and figured Cameron had gotten it going before they bumped into one another in the hallway. She got her favourite mug and prepared her morning brew to her liking, grabbed some fruit and a bowl of cereal, and sat down at the dining room table for a bit of breakfast. Just as she was slurping down the last of the milk in her bowl, there was a knock at the door.

She was a bit surprised to be a slightly sullen, and hungover, Linus standing in front of her when she opened the door.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, crossing her arms and leaning against the door-frame.

"I came to apologize," he replied.

"For?" She motioned for him to elaborate.

"Last night. I was an ass." When she didn't say anything, he continued. "I was rude and judgmental and pushy and, just, I was an ass."

"And those texts I woke up to?" Neither of them noticed Cameron and Kirsten had meandered into the hallway and were watching them.

"I was a little drunk."

"What did you mean by _I'm done_?"

He took a deep breath. "I'm done fighting. I care about you and I care about you being happy. I know that you like Fisher and he told me last night that he feels the same way. So, if you want to be with him, then you should. At the very least, take some time to figure out how you really feel." He leaned in to kiss her cheek. "See you at work, Camille." With that, he left her in the doorway.

"Well, that was unexpected," she mumbled, more to herself than anyone else.

"And awkward," Cameron interjected. Camille jumped before turning to face the couple in her living room.

"Jesus!"She placed her hand on her chest. "You guys gave me a heart attack."

"Didn't mean to walk in on that," Kirsten said. "We, uh, were heading to the kitchen and caught the end of your conversation."

"It's fine," she waved them off as she went back to her cup of coffee sitting on the table. "I'm not sure what he was talking about, though. I don't have feelings for Fisher."

Cameron and Kirsten shared a look that said they knew otherwise. Anyone that watched the two of them together could see they had feelings for each other, even if they were in denial.

"We're gonna get some breakfast,"Kirsten supplied as she pushed Cameron into the kitchen. Camille nodded in acknowledgement.

While the couple were preparing some food, there was another knock at the door. Camille answered it, yet again, with her mug in hand to reveal Detective Quincy Fisher on the other side.

"Fisher!" she said in surprise.

"Morning, Engelson."

"Uh, good morning." She was shocked to see him here, especially this early. Subconsciously, she was wondering if she was presentable. He'd seen her naked, for God's sake. Why would he care how she looked at seven in the morning when she was still in her pjs and her hair was a mess?

"I didn't wake you, did I?" he asked. She made eyes at the half cup of coffee in her hand as a response. "Of course not," he laughed. He was resisting looking at her long legs in those short pajama bottoms. She was standing in front of him in nothing but a tanktop and short shorts. Her hair had that "just rolled out of bed" look to it. It took him back to their time together a few weeks earlier, when he'd been the reason her hair looked like that. When she spoke, he swallowed and shook his head slightly to bring himself back to the present.

"What can I do for you?" She had the sense to look over her shoulder to see if her friends were listening this time.

"Well, Linus and I had a conversation last night and it made me realize something." How was he going to say this without it being awkward?

"Yes?" She was curious as to where this was going.

"Uh, how would you feel about going to dinner? With me."

She stood up straight. "Oh."

"If you don't want to..."

"No! It's not that, I just, I didn't..." She wasn't sure how to respond. Was this what she wanted? Yes, she'd thought about that night and the day after practically every day since and she'd wondered if it could go further. But, was she really going to go for it? They worked together, after all. Cameron and Kirsten made it work. But, they were perfect for one another. Anyone who saw them interact at all could see that.

"I'm gonna go," Fisher said. He motioned over his shoulder and turned to leave.

"Wait," she said. He turned back to look at her. "Dinner... would be nice." She smiled and took another sip of her coffee.

"Really?" He smiled in return. She nodded. "Tonight? Pick you up at eight?" Another nod. "Alright, I'll see you at work." He couldn't help the smile that had yet to leave his face.

"See you at work," she agreed. He backed off the porch and turned just before hitting the first step. She held back a laugh as he stumbled and tried not to fall. "Fisher?" He turned back around. "Make it seven?" When he gave her a questioning look, she elaborated. "Girl's gotta eat, why not sooner rather than later?" He laughed and nodded that it would be fine. She closed the door and was met with the happy couple sitting at the dining room table. "You heard that, didn't you?" Two nods. "Either of you going to say anything?" Two shakes of the head. "Good." She had to think this through herself. She wasn't ready for outsider input on the situation. She and Fisher were going on a date and she wasn't quite sure what to think about it. After the morning she'd had, she still had to face Linus and Fisher at work. "Don't mention it to Linus?" Two nods.

With all the commotion and the thoughts running through her mind, she couldn't help but smile as she sipped her coffee. What was she going to wear?

 **Okay, so I've had a few people get upset that Fisher and Camille didn't end up together and, while it was originally supposed to be Linus and Camille in the end, I have to admit that I ended up wanting it to be Fisher and Camille. I did have a few people ask for an explanation and that's what this chapter started out as but then I got an idea for another story that wouldn't go over well with where this chapter was originally going. Yes, this was the last chapter. But! I am working on the first chapter of the sequel! I do have limited internet at the moment so I'm making no guarantees on when it will be completed or posted. That's all for now!  
MJ**


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